


Am I a Loyalist, or a Patriot? God, I don't know...

by purplejohto



Category: Hetalia: Axis Powers
Genre: 1776 - Freeform, Attempt at Humor, Colonial America, Common Sense by Thomas Paine, Gen, Revolutionary America, it's just a simple conversation
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-21
Updated: 2020-03-21
Packaged: 2021-03-01 04:40:29
Rating: Not Rated
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 1,646
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23249371
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/purplejohto/pseuds/purplejohto
Summary: Common Sense by Thomas Paine (From Wikipedia):--A pamphlet was written by Thomas Paine in 1775–1776 advocating independence from Great Britain to people in the Thirteen Colonies. Writing in clear and persuasive prose, Paine marshalled moral and political arguments to encourage common people in the Colonies to fight for egalitarian government.
Relationships: America & England (Hetalia)
Comments: 3
Kudos: 14





	Am I a Loyalist, or a Patriot? God, I don't know...

**Author's Note:**

> Inspired from a funny exchange between Ned and that teacher in Spiderman: Homecoming where Ned got caught in the computer lab and had to say he was looking at porn. It's that but America is Ned with Revolutionary tendencies and he's trying not to be confronted by the teacher, who is England.

“Men who look upon themselves born to reign, and others to obey, soon grow insolent; selected from the rest of mankind their minds are early poisoned by importance; and the world they act in differs so materially from the world at large, that they have but little opportunity of knowing its true interests, and when they succeed to the government are frequently the most ignorant and unfit of any throughout the dominions.”

America closed the book and reopened it in another section,

“Society in every state is a blessing, but government even in its best state is but a necessary evil; in its worst state an intolerable one; for when we suffer or are exposed to the same miseries by a government, which we might expect in a country without government, our calamity is heightened by reflecting that we furnish the means by which we suffer.”

And another,

“It is not in numbers, but in unity, that our great strength lies; yet our present numbers are sufficient to repel the force of all the world.”

And another,

“But where, says some, is the King of America? I'll tell you. Friend, he reigns above, and doth not make havoc of mankind like the Royal Brute of Britain.”

America closed the book and took a deep breath. Conflicted feelings swam throughout him. So this was the radical book that had been burning through the purchases and homes of his people. Common Sense by Thomas Paine was indeed a philosophy, extremely applicable to his current condition, powerful and very dangerous. It only helped the steadily growing opposition to Britain’s ‘occupation’ of the colony, as it was beginning to stand on its own. Just about a year ago, Governor Patrick Henry had very publicly declared a phrase that echoed in the consciousness of every man now involved in the civil conflict, “Give me liberty, or give me death.” Yet Alfred himself was still unsure. Perhaps it was the old folk in New England giving the uprising a hard time, the Loyalists in the Southern Colonies, or perhaps, it was his own relationship with England that seeded a bud of guilt in his heart for harbouring even a single sense of betrayal. But now, in 1776, and his opinion, along with the general public’s opinion, was quickly swaying in favour of the Patriots and, what they now called themselves, the Revolutionaries.

America set the book down on the desk in front of him and ran a hand through his hair in frustration. A conflicted heart and a conflicted mind had only proved to be a burden in the face of uncertain history. The perspective of the public, even though riddled with propaganda, in his heart, was not necessarily wrong or incorrect. He knew that after so many obvious and clear attempts of physical suppression from England, he had felt as though he had been wronged. In fact, he still did. The Stamp Act, the Quartering Act, the Boston Massacre, the absolute refusal from King George III to negotiate. Perhaps the rumours of the Mad King had not been simply exaggerations.

Furthermore, Alfred himself had even participated in a few of these stands of ‘liberty’ or ‘freedom,’ dressing up as people of nearby tribes and tossing crates of tea into the Boston Harbour. The Sons of Liberty is what they called themselves. And yet, even the exhilaration of such an open rebellion was overrun by doubt and guilt. But again, that had been 3 years prior to now, a time where public favour had been swaying heavily towards the concept of total independence from Great Britain…

America let the thought trail off. Another pang of guilt struck him and he mentally cursed at the unwanted reminder. It was what the people wanted, independence, yet large portions of the population sprinkled throughout the colonies doubted and even invested in the otherwise, reconciliation. And… America had yet to see England since the implementations of the tax acts and he wasn’t sure if he even wanted to. What would he say? Would he keep his true opinion a secret? Was he a Patriot? A Revolutionary? Or was he a Loyalist, who would fight with England against this overwhelming portion of his own people? He wanted so badly to talk about it with England as he would with any problems he had in the past; maybe reach a conclusion before the situation became more chaotically violent, or before the war that everyone knows is coming, actually happens. But a small part of him was also afraid of England’s reaction if he knew America, deep in his consciousness, wanted to side with the Revolutionaries. Would he be angry? Sad? Or considerably, even worse, disappointed? Maybe if he was lucky, it would be all three.

The floorboards behind America creaked and a familiar voice greeted him. So familiar in fact, that it was the exact person America had just spent the past 10 minutes wishing to not see again anytime soon.

“Alfred?”

Startled, America shot up from his seat and spun around. Making sure his body was in between the book he had just been reading and his colonizer, he pulled on a panicked smile.

“Hi! Hey, England, I—” He tried to subtly calm his surprised heart, taking in a breath with a pause that had been too noticeable for his liking, “I didn’t hear you enter.”

“I just arrived.”

“Oh.”

England stared at him in both concern and confusion, most likely thinking, _what the fuck has the young lad done now?_ If only he knew, England’s reaction would’ve been a lot more serious.

“Are you okay? You look nervous and seem to be sweating quite a bit.”

“Uh, no, yeah, I’m okay. I hope the trip here went well. Did you need something?” Jittery, America shifted his weight, before quickly realizing any sort of movement could reveal the book he was still hiding behind him. He quickly stepped forward, dropped the book into the drawer, before stepping back, closing the drawer with his bum. He probably seemed a bit crazy to England at the moment but it would've been a nightmare for him should England rip the book out of America’s hands and knowingly scrutinize the cover right there in front of him. He could already hear the patronizing sneer England would give him when his stance on the subject finally came to light, with a, “What do you honestly think you’re doing?” But if America could maybe stall the conversation with that condescending England for just a few weeks or even a day longer, he will. 

This England in front of him, however, simply raised an eyebrow, “No, I simply wanted to greet you. After all, we hadn’t seen each other in…”

America’s heart sped up, thinking, _he’s going to mention the rebellions. He’s going to ask me about them. He’s—_

“...A few decades now.”

America mentally let out a breath of relief.

“What was that behind you? It looked like... a book?”

America’s brain froze. He had let out that sigh too early. “Uh, it’s, uhm, P—” He had originally wanted to tell the truth, after all, why not? It wasn’t exactly a secret that the book had been the New ‘n Hot title lately throughout his place so why wouldn’t he, the people’s personification, also be reading it? And with any luck, the author’s name ‘Paine’ might not even ring any bells or associate back to this book. But thinking it over in the last split second, he realized Thomas Paine was actually English, and so England would definitely recognize the name and that meant he was more likely to question America about it. “I was, uhm, I was reading, p- porn…?”

If it was possible for England’s thick caterpillar-like eyebrows to ascend off his face, well, they were about to. But, unsurprisingly, England’s expression was more understanding than disgusted, as if to say, _ah, I see you are a man of culture as well._ America, on the other hand, wasn’t sure whether to be disgusted and unsettled by England taking it all in stride, or whether he should be grateful England was such a pervert and thus, heavily emphasized with his current situation. At England’s constant insistence that he was a ‘gentleman’, one would be surprised at how often America had caught him casually flipping through a porn magazine, and not even in his own room but _in the living room for crying out loud._

“Ah, well,” England cleared his throat, “You are at that age after all.” America wasn’t exactly sure what England was talking about but his face burned with embarrassment regardless. England wasn’t even embarrassed! And _he wasn’t even actually reading porn_! England continued, “Well, I suppose I shall leave you to your young man duties.”

America thought his blushed skin was going to stay pink forever and his forehead pulsed as though he had a fever. “England!” He cried. Why did the old man have to say it like that?! ‘Young man duties’?? America was on the verge of tears. Humiliation, embarrassment, or extreme awkwardness, he wasn’t sure. He was just glad this wasn’t happening in front of other people. “Go away!” 

England chuckled and spun on his heel, starting down the hall just as America ran to the doorway and slammed the door in his face. He collapsed back on the wooden frame and groaned, burying his face in the palms of his hands. Somehow, convincing England into believing America had been attending to his ‘ _young man duties’_ had resulted in something much worse and humiliating than simply taking the chance and letting England see the Paine book he had been actually reading.

Even if America and England made it through this current strife between the colonizer and the opposing colony, with friendship to spare, America was certain; England was never going to let him live this down.


End file.
